Page 94 of From Air

We share a grin. I’d say a knowing grin, but I’m not sure I know anything anymore. Fitz took time away from what he loves the most to see me. He elicited help from Evette. Then he introduced me to his grandma. We’ve spent the better part of the past three days naked in my bed. And he seems obsessed with touching my tattoo.

I can’t even begin to understand the look in his eyes. It’s pure torture. I didn’t put that look there, but I feel like I bring it to the surface.

Emotion works its way into my throat, making it hard to swallow and nearly impossible to speak, so I clear it and find something lighter to talk about than the reality that he’s leaving. I don’t know what this weekend has meant to him. “I bet Mrs. Wilke will be thrilled to see you.”

“Yeah. Her nipples get pretty hard when I come home after being gone for so long.”

I hum. “Are you going to tell her about us?”

“I’m not sure yet. She’s never been that receptive to the suggestion of a threesome, so I don’t know how she’d handle hearing about us.”

We mirror each other’s shit-eating grins, but mine fades first. “In a strictly friendly way, I will miss you.”

“That’s disappointing. I will miss you in a strictly sexual way.”

With a dismissive smile, I open the door. “If you don’t get going, the only thing you’ll miss is your flight.”

His hands slide around my waist, hugging my back to his chest. His forehead rests on the crown of my head. No words. Just slow breaths.

My skin prickles with a flood of emotions that I can’t articulate. They have nowhere to go.

I wait.

And wait.

With each passing breath shared in silence, my heart cracks a little more. Aches a little deeper.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper.

“For what,” he murmurs just before pressing his lips to my head.

“For whatever happened to your family.”

He stiffens for a moment. I’m sure this seems out of the blue because he knows I don’t know what happened. And that’s okay. As much as I want to crawl into his heart and take away whatever keeps him from feeling worthy of love, I’m okay with offering blind compassion.

“Thank you,” Fitz whispers, releasing me. He picks up his bag and struts to the exit without making eye contact again—a vanishing figure tugging my heartstrings.

“Calvin Fitzgerald?” I yell, wiping my tears before they escape.

He stops, but he doesn’t turn.

“If you were normal and didn’t have an awful past, do you think you could love me?” My fierce heart always trumps my controlled thoughts.

I’m not sure he heard me.

But then he continues toward the exit. “Jaymes, if I were normal, I’d love you enough. The problem is, I’m not normal, so I’d love youtoo much.”

Not one look back.

The door closes behind him. Another apartment door opens, and a woman steps out, glancing in my direction. Then she does a double take.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

I nod despite the flood of tears trailing down my cheeks.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

CALVIN

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